Who Stole the Tarts?
by Tendo Rei
Summary: A latenight murder of one of Gotham's elite, two suspects who claim to hate each other. What's really going on? contains slashy goodness


**Who Stole the Tarts?**

Disclaimer: I earn no money from this story of another's works, just the hard-earned satisfaction that I have finished another day's slash.

* * *

Frederick Danforth locked the door behind him and threw away the key.

He thought he was safe.

He _knew_ he was safe.

Safe from prying, peeping eyes. Safe from the heavies and thugs that seemed to populate this city. Safe from all repercussions, physical or otherwise.

Yes, he chuckled as he leaned back in his luxurious caramel leather chair behind his voluminous desk; he was, without a single doubt in the world, safe.

Which was why he got such a nasty shock when one of the two gentlemen sitting opposite him cleared his throat.

His face drained of all color and he began to babble, hands clutching at various things on the desk. The shorter one viewed his actions with a calm detachment, somewhat like a bored child. The taller one, with hair like red thatch hidden under a raggedy straw hat, viewed him with contemptuous amusement.

"Wh-wh-how-" he choked.

"Oh, come now, let's not get into the whole '_how did we discover your great master plan?_' spiel." Stated the taller one coolly.

"'Though it is quite the tail." Giggled the shorter one. He was answered with a fond look from the other one.

"With quite a few bends, particularly when we get to the Fury!"

"The fury?" repeated Danforth thickly, not being quite familiar with Jervis Tetch's peculiar pastiche of the English language.

"Ahhh, yes: there was much fury, _and_ shouting going on. Our mutual partner is now enlightened to the fact that the platinum you insisted on paying him in is heavily electroplated. That's a very careless business decision for someone to make; unless, say, that someone was going to leave town in a hurry, without telling his partner or bothering to report the rather _large_ amount of money suddenly transferred into an unknown bank account."

Crane stopped and gave Danforth a rather nasty smile.

"That someone would have to count upon many things not happening, his partner not having the means or the intelligence to give his payment more than superficial examination, his accountant being loyal despite the fact that he is paid much less than other retained accountants but does not know it, and _finally_-"

"-High time, indeed!"

Crane gave him a slightly less fond look and continued.

"_That_ someone would have to count upon the fact that the two individuals who rightly stole it in the first place would not realize just where their partner was putting the money; he would have to count upon the fact that they are just two incompetent criminals who couldn't track the money _and_ their former partner down; and perhaps the biggest chance he would take was counting on the fact that the two wouldn't find out, track him down to his office just as he was about to leave for an indefinitely extended business trip, bearing a fortune in dental tools, some nylon climbing rope, and a blowtorch."

Crane leaned back in his chair, his chin propped on a closed fist.

"Now, what does that sound like to you? If it were true, it would be very equally insulting to you _and_ the both of us. It gives the appearance that you are an arrogant fool with no sense of human decency or business loyalty, and it makes _us_ look like fools who trusted the wrong ex-con to do business with. It also gives the rather nasty impression that you think we're bumbling idiots."

Danforth stared at the two a long while.

"How did you get in?"

A blue keycard hit the far side of his desk with a clatter and fell to the floor.

"The Bookworm was far more forthcoming than you were." Came Crane's voice from the dark.

"He actually offered to come down here _with_ us, help us make you into plum pudding. But-"

The Hatter leaned forward, all teeth and madness.

"We wanted you all to ourselves, wanted to find out just what kind of a _Bandersnatch_ steals another man's hard earned tarts."

"Which is why, I'm afraid, no one will be raising the alarm call until we are well out into the streets."

Danforth's eyes flickered out to the passageway beyond his door.

"All quite dead, I assure you. Of course, they only had to die right away because they didn't have anything valuable to give us. But you do, don't you?" Crane gave a sinister chuckle like dry autumn leaves.

"The only question that really remain is just _what_ to do with you?"

Crane leaned forward, and Danforth tried to sink into his chair.

"Just what…are we going…to do…with _you_…?"

* * *

The police had cordoned off the Rubrum Hamus building on 112 street and were just now able to break the electric security lock on Freddie Danforth's office door. When they got it open, it took a minute for the tableau before them to sink in. When it did, three unseasoned officers threw up. Those more hardened by age and experience managed to contain their gorges, but they retreated out to the hall for a breath of fresh air. Down below, the two biggest suspects had been picked up off the streets, one sequestered in the back of a cop car, the other sprawled on the sidewalk, holding his eye.

Sgt. Obed Pantano had been in this city only a short time. He was still fresh as a daisy, or as his fellow officers put it: "a sleepless bastard", even in the wee hours of the morning. The half-Puerto Rican half-New Englander was of impressive stock, 6'4", solid build, imposing dark eyes that never seemed to close. He towered over the others in Gotham's police department, in more ways than one.

Which is why, when he hit the pavement, people scattered. That made him grin tightly. His former post, Aylesbury, was a sleepy little town up north. Even if a rocket crashed into the town square, past sundown no one could be bothered to get up and look. Here, you got crowds within minutes of anything happening, at any time of day. It made him feel needed.

He straightened up to his full height, adjusted his badge, and began his police work. He started by shouting at the officer standing helplessly over the man on the sidewalk, offering him a hand.

"_Pabodie_!" he screamed. The officer snapped to attention.

"_Do not offer that man a hand up_! He is a potential _suspect_, I want you to _frisk him_! _Careful near his pockets!_ He probably has a hypo!"

He strode over to the huddled group of officers near the entrance.

"Why are we standing around the crime scene?! _Is this a ladies sewing circle or are you all just too afraid to go inside_?!"

Behind his back, officer Linda Chan shot him a dirty look.

"Sarge, we're on crowd control-"

"_This crowd does not look controlled to me_! I want you to disperse this little church gathering even if you have to get out your riot gear, you bunch of _panty-wearin' mama's boys_!"

With much grumbles, the officers scattered, more of them going off to sneak a smoke than actually trying to contain the crowd. They all knew how it was here. Crowds were a constant. Sure, you might displace a molecule or two, but more would always come to take their place.

The sergeant slicked a hand through his hair and clicked neatly over to the young officer supporting the perp on the curb.

"He's clean, Sarge!" the young officer snapped as much to attention as he could. He had his arm around the shoulders of the Mad Hatter, Obed knew him from the Wanted database that he studied religiously, who still had a hand clapped to his eye and had started crying wretchedly.

"-_teach you to faint at what my family do_!" The Scarecrow frothed from his position at the window of the car.

"_Someone get that nutcase out of here_! Pabodie, if you're not too _busy_ with your new beau, maybe you'd like to take him down to the station _for questioning_!"

"But, Sarge, shouldn't we call B-"

"I do not see any reason we should involve that _cross-dressing nancy boy_!" He roared. "We are the police department of Gotham and we should be able to manage such a _minor_ misdemeanor!"

The squad car pulled away, and the Hatter gently took off his hat, petting the ribbon protectively. Crane grinned madly from the back windshield.

Obed flicked his wet gaze around the scene, now full of busy little motion. He smiled smugly, several of the officers giving him the finger behind his back, several more feeling brave enough to do it in front of him. It didn't matter, he never saw.

"All right!" He barked. "If this sit'iation is contained enough, I am going to go help interrogate those two suspects. _Is that copasetic_?"

"Yes Sarge." Chorused the officers like a kindergarten class.

"_Right_!" He strode quickly to his car, leaving just moments before another squad car pulled up and Commissioner Gordon stepped out. He surveyed the action and sighed.

"Okay, guys, he's gone. You can stop now. _Rodriguez, put down that tear gas_!"

* * *

The Hatter glanced up into the naked bulb that gave off far too much light and blinked. The Scarecrow was holed up in a small cell somewhere, nursing a few cracked ribs. Despite a little "friendly persuasion", as Obed put it, the Scarecrow had yielded nothing. No information, no items of any interest, not even a false confession that would've made this job so much neater. He had given them nothing, so now it was the Hatter's turn.

He placed a pack of cigarettes on the table and the Hatter looked at him blankly. He tapped one out and withdrew it. So the Hatter wasn't a smoker, interesting.

"You mind telling me exactly what you were doing in the street at nearly four o'clock in the morning just outside the building of a murdered man?"

The Hatters' forehead crinkled. "What?"

He gritted his teeth. "_Why do you think you're here_?"

"Oh." The Hatter grinned, showing the slight gap between his front teeth. "That's easy. When a man and a woman love each other very much, they-"

"I meant _why were you brought in_?"

"Well why didn't you just say what you meant?"

"I meant what I said!"

"No, no." The Hatter sat back, shaking his head sadly. "That's not nearly the same thing."

Obed's hands tightened into fists. "_Yes it is_."

"You might as well say 'I breathe when I sleep' is the same as 'I sleep when I breathe'."

The comment earned him a fist in the nose.

"Social, aren't you?" Said the Hatter, trying to stop the flow of blood with his palm.

"I want to know what the hell went on between the two of you. I know you're guilty."

"You do?" The Hatter's eyes widened in mock amazement. "Well, what am I here for then? Your amazing deductive powers have solved the case!"

"Shut up and tell me what I want to know!" Obed brought both fists down on the table. The Hatter looked at him pitiably.

"Do you find that doing impossible things helps you keep a good head on your shoulders?"

Obed stared at him opaquely.

The Hatter sighed. "I'm going to tell you what I know. It's probably not what you want to hear."

"They're-"

"-the same thing, I know, I know."

The Hatter looked up thoughtfully. "It all began about six months ago-"

"That has _nothing_ to do with this!"

"How can you know? I haven't finished. I was in Arkham asylum, laid up from a prior engagement, when Jonathon Crane burst in and tried to convince me otherwise…"

* * *

Crane stood over his infirmary bed, looking urgently at him. "_Hushhhh, shh. You don't want the nurse to come in, do you_?"

Tetch looked up at him, completely confused. "_Do I_?"

Crane straightened up. "No you don't. And you weren't hit on the head by Killer Croc in the asylum riot either."

"Then why am I in here?"

"You were with me in an attempted bank robbery when you inhaled a small amount of nerve toxin. You lost consciousness, and I was forced to abandon you before the police caught me."

The Hatter's eyebrows drew together in indignation. "Then why are you here? Off with your head I s-"

"_Shhh_!" Hissed Crane. "_You might not like it if the guards had to come in, but you certainly wouldn't like _me_ if the guards had to come in_."

Tetch, understanding his threat, nodded and lay back down.

"I was forced to abandon you, but I did so knowing that you would be, to a certain extent, safe. I left no evidence on you that would link us together, and I made certain I could find you after a certain cooling-off period."

The Hatter stared back in confusion. "Why?"

"Because, one of us had to get left behind, and it was better that they didn't suspect you."

"No, I meant why didn't you frame me for the crime?"

Crane laughed softly. "You should say what you mean, rather than mean what you say." He stroked the top of Tetch's head lovingly.

Tetch swallowed with a dry click.

"You…y-you mean…"

"Of course." Crane glanced at him with surprise. "For quite some time now."

"B-but I d-don't-" he was having difficulty telling Crane no, as he appeared to be farther off the deep end than even the Hatter himself was and possibly violent.

"You don't remember." Crane sighed and shook his head. "Of course you don't. _That would've been too convenient_. I suppose you got a larger dose than originally estimated."

"But, I can't- I'm not- Alice…" he whimpered helplessly. Crane narrowed his eyes.

"I thought we had gotten past this." He stated disapprovingly. The Hatter flinched.

"I know she's waiting for me-"

"Utter twaddle! She's not even real, and even if she were, do you think she would really care about you?"

Jervis started to withdraw into himself.

"She can't understand you or appreciate you, not on the level I do! She's just a silly little girl whom complex feelings mean nothing less than a chain of daisies!"

Crane grabbed his chin roughly in one hand. Tetch whimpered softly.

"I broke you of this habit because it has no use in the real world. Real people would strip all harmless distractions from you and make you hate yourself!"

Crane released him.

"I was trying to help."

He turned.

"I don't know why. For the life of me, I don't"

He began to walk away.

"Wait-Jonathan!"

He turned back. Tetch was trying feebly to get out of bed. He walked to him and gave him a hand.

"If you- will you- if I believe what you're saying, w-will you promise me one thing?"

Crane chuckled and ran a hand through his hair. "Anything."

"_Do you promise not to leave_?"

"_Not without you_."

The two bent closer and closer…

* * *

"That's sick."

"It's sickeningly true."

Obed had removed his jacket and leaned his chair back on two legs. Tetch was drinking a small Styrofoam cup of muddy tea.

"So you're saying he smacks you around because he loves you?" Obed snickered and flicked away his toothpick. "No offense, but that sounds like a line my stepmother would use."

"I didn't say that; I said that despite his outward appearance, he harbors a single soft spot. And despite that spot, he does what must be done, even though sometimes it may break his heart."

"I don't understand."

"I didn't think you would."

"What does this really have to do with the two of you tonight?"

Tetch sighed. "We were foiled in our first attempt in robbing the Gotham bank. The second attempt, however, was far more successful."

Obed stared at him hungrily. "And you say this was six months ago?"

"And it would've gone off without a hitch, if our go-between hadn't already been working for a scheming, if somewhat foolhardy, business man."

Obed chuckled triumphantly. His superiors had all told him types like the Hatter had been hard nuts to crack, but this one hadn't given him much trouble. A single shot to the nose, it was a new record for him.

"And you'd be willing to testify in court?"

"Of course. But only if you back me up every step of the way." The Hatter smiled indulgently at him.

"All right, then. I'll tell the chief and we'll get the ball rolling on the conviction. There is the matter of the evidence, but I'm sure you'd be able to help me in that respect, wouldn't you?"

"Naturally." The Hatter grinned. He politely waited until Obed was out of the room before bursting into laughter.

* * *

"But Commissioner, he confessed himself-"

"Yes, but a confession isn't going to hold up in court, especially not from one of them! _Hell_, the Hatter pull insanity pleas for traffic violations and he gets away with it! You couldn't have secured the area a little better before storming off to interrogate your _captives_?"

Gordon lit a cigarette and leaned back, catching Obed looking at him expectantly. "What?"

"Nothing, sir. Look, we know we can trust the Hatter, Crane beat him up for god's sake! He says he'd be willing to testify against the Scarecrow it's a sure thing-"

"-and sure things rarely work out the way we think they will. You made an arrest based on no evidence, we found nothing on either suspect. _For crying out loud Pantano_, in the time your men took to make the arrest, either one of them could've disposed of the evidence in a safe place! And then you think that by sheer force you can coerce two notorious criminals into telling you and you alone the truth when they have consistently made up stories to higher forces than you without batting an eye! Not only is that extremely arrogant, its stupid! If I presented this as evidence, I'd be a _laughingstock_!"

"All right, sir, I hear you. We'll let them go and if you just give me a little time and manpower, I can have them-"

"I am giving you nothing in the way of manpower and if you think I'm going to actually let you continue this lunacy-"

"Sir?" this was all like some horrible dream. "What lunacy?"

"What lunac-…" He trailed of and looked at Obed through steepled fingers. "Are you sincerely telling me you don't know?"

Obed nodded.

"The _lunacy_ I am talking about is your rotten behavior to this whole police force. Giving orders above your station, giving overtly sexist remarks, verbally abusing your fellow officers, unnecessary use of force in detaining suspects-"

"But commissioner, I told you, he _ran into_ that wall!"

"Several times? And I suppose Rhino broke his own molars with a pipe wrench? My god man, you're a one-person stampede! I'm beginning to see why your district was eager to see you transferred-"

"Sir?"

"-and why you came so highly recommended. I think it's time you took a little vacation, Pantano, and maybe when you return, you pack up and go home."

Obed's hand slid bonelessly off the arm of his chair.

"I think it would be better for all of us if we collectively forgot about your sojourn here, officer Pantano. Clean out your locker, I expect you to be gone by ten."

He stood up numbly, seeing nothing. He had a vague notion of Gordon shaking his hand, before he turned to the door to go out.

But once it was open, he hesitated. One final piece of information, if he phrased it right, might save him.

"Commissioner?"

A sigh. "Yes, Obed?"

_The Scarecrow and the Mad Hatter have been having a romantic relationship for months, sir, and gee golly, wouldn't it be swell if I got my job back?_

_Come on, say it!_

"N-nothing. Thank you, sir."

* * *

He cleaned out his locker, dumping what little personal effects he had into a brown paper bag. He hadn't really noticed how much contempt for him the other officers had, until now.

He slid to the floor emptily.

They all thought he was an arrogant idiot, and maybe he was _a little_. But there was so much more to him than met the eye. If they had given him a chance, gotten to know him longer, they would see that they only assumed he was an idiot because…

He stared at the corner of the ceiling. Of course. He had allowed it to happen!

Tetch's statement. That Crane loved, but he did what had to be done. If he knew Tetch was going to be safe…Tetch had laid out all the facts for him in the story!

Of course it probably hadn't happened, but it had some grains of truth to it. They counted on the shortsightedness of the police force, the fact that no one knew they were…

Except him. And he only knew because he had been told.

The must have gone through the databases, until picking him as the perfect candidate. They were indeed sly foxes.

Obed smiled triumphantly before a crippling wave of depression overcame him. He knew, but who could he tell, who would possibly believe him…

* * *

Discretion kept them at least a street apart for the first few blocks out of the precinct house. But eventually, longing triumphed over fear and they were walking with their arms around each other's shoulders by Kane street.

"Shame about that young officer. Do you think he's figured it out?"

Slim fingers traced around the band of Jervis's top hat, the dots and dashes of which corresponded to a well hidden back account.

"I don't see why not, I fairly sang it for him. Tell me, where are we going?"

"The coast." Crane said with certainty. "After that… maybe Ipswich or somewhere like it, where we can withdraw a safe amount of money."

"Do you know how much better you look without your raggedy old burlap mask?" Tetch queried, tracing the shell of his ear.

"But I have to wear it sometimes, otherwise I can't really go on calling myself _Scarecrow_, can I?"

"You could always wear a noose, call yourself the Hangman!" Tetch jumped excitedly.

"Very nice." He pressed his cheek against Jervis's hair. "But it's taken."

"Too bad then." He blew a kiss to the stone-faced gargoyle on the corner of the nearby gothic cathedral, and they were gone.

One the top of said gargoyle, a certain stone-faced crime fighter stretched and kept his secrets.

* * *

_Author's Note: a short(really?) companion piece to Psychosis, to all of you who haven't read it, read it_ now! **Now! Click on over there**! _I can never resist peppering my works with obscure references, but I think I made it a little too obvious with Pantano, naming him Obed like that. I just can't help it, I dig unusual couples, they can be so sweet(yet kinda disturbing at the same time). Thanks again everyone who reviewed on Psychosis, this bud's for you._


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